


All's Fair (in Bidding Wars)

by angweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Charity Auctions, Dating, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, Post-Hogwarts, a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27668417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angweasley/pseuds/angweasley
Summary: Harry participates in a charity auction and it raises more than just money. Questions and feelings come into the fray when his date does not turn out to be what he thought, and Hermione has to figure out why she is so bothered by the fact that the date is not her.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter (Mild), Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 48
Kudos: 140
Collections: Harmony & Co Prompt Bank Fills





	1. The War is Waged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I decided to take a writing detour before I posted the next part of the Time series so don't hate me. I got the idea for this story from Harmony & Co.’s Tumblr account that asks for prompts. I loved the premise (see below) and thought it sounded like a lot of fun. It’s going to be quick -- two chapters -- and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> "There’s a charity bachelor’s auction with Harry and Ron up for grabs. They put in some protections against sitcom shenanigans like requiring people only to bid for themselves and making sure only women under forty can bid. Hermione even promises to put in a ten galleon bid on the boys so they don’t get bought for a single sickle. There’s a bidding war on Harry that Hermione couldn’t win even if she wanted to, and she’s jealous when Harry has a wonderful time on his date." @johnburtonlee

Harry had never imagined, at any point in his life, that he would agree to women bidding on him for the chance to date him. And yet here he was.

There was more to it than that - quite a bit more - but the fact still remained. He was doing it in the name of philanthropy for a charitable foundation, but he was still doing it. And knowing that it was _his_ charitable foundation, oddly, did not make the idea easier to accept.

At least not initially.

"An _auction_?" Harry pondered, gaping at everyone around the table. He was given earnest nods by the six other faces.

"Yes."

"An auction where people will bid on other people?"

"For a date, not ownership. Don't sound so dramatic, Harry." Lavender Brown advised, rolling her eyes before smiling.

"It was the fundraiser that received the most votes." Percy Weasley reported.

"I got the idea from Hermione! She was talking about a Muggle telly show she watched."

Harry frowned at the revelation, feeling irrational betrayal at his best friend's involvement.

"Please explain, because this sounds… bizarre," he stated. The others chuckled at his hesitancy. He had not been present at the meeting last month when they had originally discussed it so this concept was alarming for the wizard.

"We'll have ten to fifteen volunteers - wizards - who are willing to give some of their time to the person who offers the most money for them. There'll be a ten galleon minimum in order to bid." Andromeda Tonks shared.

"How are you going to get these volunteers?"

"Harry, dear - don't be modest. This is your foundation and you are well connected, whether you want to be or not," Augusta Longbottom cut in, sounding prim and peering at him, "I'm certain your friends and colleagues will participate for a good cause. There'll be even less trouble finding bidders!"

"And every wizard will be single, of course. No need for any mess." Susan Bones added. There were nods of assent.

"Do you have an idea of who you'd ask?" Harry wondered with an eyebrow raise.

"Of course! I made a list of 25 potentials." Lavender responded. She waved a paper at him and he appeared surprised.

"We'll vet the bidders, of course, to make sure they're safe and sane. If they want to bid, they'll have to go through a screening process." Marina Nash, a former Ravenclaw and friend of Andromeda's, remarked.

"And we won't list the names of the men in the auction when we advertise. We'll merely say some of magical Britain's finest men will be available." Percy declared.

Harry wanted to purse his lips as his aunt had done so often in the past but gestured for the list of potentials instead. Lavender passed it down and his eyes took in the multitude of names as chatter continued around him. A few Quidditch players, Ministry employees, entrepreneurs, Theodore Nott, Seamus Finnigan, Ron (Harry silently snorted; his best friend would surely participate)... He recognized a third of the men and had relationships with another third, and he was not surprised when he did not see Neville's name written down. Based on what they said about singlehood being a requirement, Neville did not qualify. He was in a serious relationship with Hannah Abbott and was two months away from proposing to the witch, the latter of which only _his_ friends knew.

It was when Harry got to the last name on the paper that his head jerked up.

"I'm on here," he announced, his index finger pointing stubbornly to his name. There was a quiet pause while the others gazed at him.

"Well what do you expect, Harry? You're the founder _and_ you're single. You have to be included!" reasoned Lavender. The dark haired wizard looked at his board of trustees, appearing helpless.

The Potter Foundation had been established one year after Voldemort's defeat when Harry, still recovering himself, had difficulty digesting the sheer devastation the war had wrought on British society. With the help of his older kin and his two closest friends, he started an organization that helped victims of civil unrest and war, both magical and non-magical, in many different parts of the world. Countries in Europe, Africa, Asia and Central & South America received aid from the foundation and, while young, the agency was successful in carrying out its mission and becoming increasingly well known. Grimmauld Place had been converted into the organization's headquarters and it teemed with the life of its employees, which included witches and wizards (some of whom were werewolves), squibs, and elves.

Harry was humble yet proud when it came to his foundation and he believed the board of trustees, on which he sat, was a solid bunch. Consequently, they typically only met as a group once per month as the majority of the board members had other jobs. Percy was a department head at the Ministry, Susan was an Auror, Neville was a consulting herbologist (and partial member since his grandmother would take his place when he was unavailable), and Marina helped run a family business. Harry himself worked part time for the International Magical Cooperation Department; he was at the Ministry on Monday and Wednesday, at the agency on Tuesday and Thursday, and Friday was a toss up. Andromeda, conversely, worked full time for The Potter Foundation as did Lavender, although Lavender was head of fundraising and not yet on the board. However, becoming a member was an eventual goal the young woman hoped to achieve.

Hermione _also_ worked for her best friend's organization yet it was on a pro-bono basis, so while she could be spotted at headquarters often enough, she was not a regular like others. Her primary job was at the Ministry where she did litigation and advocacy work for underserved and overlooked people and creatures, something at which she excelled.

 _She also gives Lavender dodgy ideas for fundraisers_! Harry thought, shaking his head. There _had_ to be someone else who thought this idea was strange, and having to be _in it_ in addition to the strangeness was too much for his brain at the moment.

"Andromeda?" he prompted, turning to his godson's grandmother.

"I agree with Lavender, son. I think it makes sense for you to participate," she smiled.

"You'll pull in loads of galleons for the foundation! People will fill cauldrons to the brim for the chance to go on a date with you." Susan said with a wink.

"And it goes without saying that we'll list the wizards' preferences. What gender, or genders, they're attracted to so there's no discomfort or confusion when bidding." Lavender expounded.

"Percy!" Harry uttered. He swiveled to the person with a notoriously pragmatic mind, hoping to find an ally in him.

"We talked about this at length last month during our meeting. It's sound and has the potential to garner a considerable amount of money," the red head answered. He gave an apologetic shrug.

The dark haired wizard stared at the list in front of him again with a set mouth.

"So what do you say, Mr. Potter? Are you in?" Marina posed after a moment.

"By that she means will you agree to be auctioned, because the event is happening even if you're opposed. It was a near unanimous vote." Augusta supplied, wearing a faint smirk. Harry released a prolonged sigh before he muttered:

"S'pose I don't have much of a choice, do I? Fine. I'll do it."

There was some noise of excitement from a couple of them.

"Don't you worry - it'll be wonderful!" Lavender assured, giving a magnificent grin. When she displayed that happy expression that took up the entirety of her face, the damage done by Greyback seemed pathetically infinitesimal.

"When exactly will this take place?" the dark haired young man questioned.

"Six weeks from now. It'll be a smash, you'll see!"

Harry had words for Hermione about this "smash" the next time he saw her, which happened to be the following day during their coordinated, Ministry lunch hour.

"A bidding war," he bluntly stated.

"What?" the brunette inquired, fork stopping halfway to her mouth. She gazed at him.

"The foundation's next charity event will be a bidding war. Wizards in the public eye are going to be auctioned so people can have the chance to date them for an evening."

"Really?"

"Mmm. I was told all about it yesterday during our board meeting. Apparently it was popular enough to win the majority vote during last month's meeting. Lavender's already compiled a list of possible wizards to be sold," informed Harry. Hermione laughed pleasantly while he crossed his arms.

"How interesting!" she noted.

"That's one way to describe it. You should also know that _you_ were the inspiration for this brain child."

" _How_?"

"You mentioned some telly program to Lavender and she ran with it!" he relayed.

"I see…. I take it you're not keen on the idea." Hermione predicted, looking rather entertained.

"It's weird. And I'm one of the wizards being auctioned!"

"Ah, so _there's_ your problem."

"Can you blame me?" Harry pondered in disbelief.

"No, not off principle. But it _is_ your foundation, Harry, and I know how much you care for it," she commented, "It's for a terrific cause and featuring you would make it undeniably more successful. I know you will never embrace your fame but it's advantageous when you use it for good. I also can't imagine the board would let just _anyone_ bid and allow such risk."

"No. They're going to screen," he grumbled, arms still folded, "And our identities won't be revealed beforehand."

"Then it sounds like they've thought this through, like they think everything through."

"So you'll really let me get on stage in six weeks and be bought? You won't agree with me that I should forgo it?"

"I have no say in this!" the witch laughed.

"You can tell the board why it's not a good idea to include me!" Harry answered.

"And why isn't it? Strictly because you don't want the attention?"

He gave a big sigh like he was suffering and then remarked:

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"You're whining." Hermione retorted, smirking. Harry made a face and she laughed.

"This is going to be an awkward hell," he predicted in a low voice after a moment.

"Well how about this, Mr. Pouty? To make the experience less awful... I'll bid on you."

The wizard peered at her shrewdly, uncrossing his arms.

"You will?"

"Of course! I'll sign up to participate. The money will go to something I care about, it'll be time won with my best friend, _and_ I might be able to save you from a truly dreadful date. All positives," she explained.

"The minimum bid is 10 galleons. For everyone," he informed, continuing to watch her.

"Then I'll double that, at least. I know you'll be the _piece de resistance_ ; ten will get me nowhere."

A brilliant smile broke out on Harry's face after a few more seconds and he seemed to fully relax.

"Ta, Hermione! I can always count on you to help me out."

"I know. You're lucky to have me," the Muggleborn claimed with a twinkle in her eye. His smile grew, "You said it's in six weeks?"

"Yes: a Friday. The date is the next day. The first adverts will be out tomorrow," he noted.

"All right. I'm at Grimmauld tomorrow so I'll let Lavender know to count me in."

"You'll still need to be screened. Everyone knows how mental you are."

Hermione hurled something at him but he caught it, chuckling.

"Who else is being auctioned?" she inquired.

"Eh, don't want to ruin the surprise for you." Harry said.

"What? Are you nervous I'd ditch you and bid on a better option if I knew?"

"You won't get better than me and you know it, love."

He had leaned over the table to say this and flashed her a roguish grin, and Hermione froze for a tick. She knew he was being impish because he was comfortable but she still detected heat in his gaze and tone, even his damn grin, and it was enough to cause her pause, just like it did every so often during one of their playful exchanges. Hermione knew Harry well and knew where they stood with each other, but when her heart beat faster or she got that whopping feeling in her stomach from certain things he did or said, she wondered….

Six weeks later found Harry standing behind a blood red curtain, frowning. He gazed out at an impressive crowd of people sitting in golden chairs and conversing while they waited for the auction to start.

Marketing for the event had gone very well. The foundation got the eligible wizards it needed without trouble (15, to be precise) and had significantly more people request to participate than was necessary, so a cut off of attendees had been set. Harry had been approached numerous times throughout the six weeks as people expressed interest or attempted to learn which men would be involved (if _he_ would be involved), yet it did nothing to increase his own enthusiasm for the fundraiser. He was glad for the buzz because it indicated the event would be prosperous, which would be good for his organization, but his zeal to be one of the wizards auctioned never manifested. The knowledge that Hermione was going to bid on him was all that mollified Harry, apart from the money that would be raised for The Potter Foundation, so he kept his mouth shut.

Similarly, once the brunette had learned Ron was also in the auction, she vowed to bid on him as well.

"That's our Herms - looking out for us!," the red head had stated, "But I just need you to keep things going, let the witches know I'm desirable by calling out a number here and there. I'll give you a signal to stop once I spot the one I want to go home with." Hermione had leveled him with a repulsed stare before declaring:

"Yes, please do. That way I can let her know what a brute you are!"

Like Harry had predicted, Ron was all too eager to be directly involved in the fundraiser and basked in the idea of being won by a woman. Still quite young at 24, he'd dated a healthy amount since the end of the war and was content with his casual affairs, cognizant of the fact that he did not want anything serious. His biggest commitment in life was working with George and he liked it that way for now. Harry's biggest commitment was also work but his views on dating varied from his best friend; the dark haired young man was not actively looking for romance but he would be open to embracing it if it presented itself. The issue was it had not been on the horizon for almost a year, since his 20 month relationship with a woman he'd met through foundation work had ended.

And he surely did not believe he would find romance this way: being obligated to spend time with someone in the name of philanthropy.

Harry's frown was on the verge of deepening when he saw Hermione seated among the horde of people, noticing her mane of hair before anything else. She was talking to Parvati Patil (there to support her best friend's venture by bidding) and a woman he did not recognize, and his unhappy expression transformed into a faint smile. He was actually dressed in clothing she had picked out, although it was an order that had come from Lavender. The bubbly witch had told Harry he was not allowed to choose his own attire for the night because he was likely to show up looking too casual in sneakers and jeans, so she directed him to have a woman in his life pick clothes for him or she would make a visit to his apartment and do it herself. Needless to say, Harry had gone with the first option.

"What's it look like out there?" wondered Ron, coming up behind the other wizard. Harry moved the curtain a tad so the red head could see.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he noted.

"Too late to back out now, Potter."

"I was never allowed the chance to back out. Even _Luna_ thought it was a good idea."

Ron laughed then said:

"It is! Being sold to good looking women who badly want to spend time with you? Can I spend all my weekends like this?"

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled a little as he let the curtain fall back.

Ten minutes later, Lavender stood on stage giving a prefatory speech about the foundation and event, and expressed gratitude to the attendees. She happily called for the volunteers to join her afterward and the crowd was allowed to see the men available for bidding for the first time. The excitement burst audibly when Harry was spotted and he kept his well practiced, cheerful expression plastered on his face, which was maintained by peeking at Hermione. She was his saving grace in so many ways and it never ceased to amaze him.

The wizards were ushered off stage relatively quickly except for the first one being auctioned, whose demographics were read to the audience. They were presented in no particular order but they knew when they would be next, and Ron was number five whereas Harry was number nine. The pureblood strode on stage when it was his time and made a joke after being introduced by his ex-girlfriend, which earned laughter from the bidders and some of the other men. His bidding lasted quite some time due to his popularity and he wore a magnetic smile the entirety of it. Hermione stopped competing at 35 galleons, sensing witches would go far beyond her offer, and Ron final's bid was for 100 galleons, a number of which he was very proud. A 26 year old Cape Verdean woman from Portugal was the victor and, by the look on the red head's face, he highly approved of her based on face value alone.

Consequently, Hermione knew she was in trouble once the bid for Ron ended. If he had gone for 100 galleons, Harry would go for even more and she would be outbid. Easily. The brunette had allotted 50 galleons for him but that would obviously not be enough. She felt a degree of anxiety as she watched the wizard after Ron be auctioned and deliberated what to do. She _could_ Confound the other bidders but she'd sworn off doing that again for personal reasons after the debacle with Ron in sixth year. Before Hermione had even decided on a satisfying course of action on how to proceed, her other best friend was on stage and the noise of the room became fevered.

Half of Lavender's presentation of Harry was drowned out by exuberant squeals and whispers from the audience. She stated that he truly needed no introduction before highlighting some of his post-war achievements and asserting that whoever placed his winning bid would be the envy of the night. Harry tried not to turn an intense shade of red while Hermione unconsciously balled her fists and grimaced. She knew this was going to be one hell of a battle and felt like her weapons were suddenly, woefully, inadequate.

The bid for Harry was fast yet lethal. The initial offer started at 25 galleons and merely climbed rapidly from there. Parvati had her eyes on a different man but offered 40 just for the fun of it, knowing she stood no chance. Hermione shot her friend an annoyed look for contributing to the problem, but by the time she focused again the bid was already up by 10 galleons. Her first bid had been for 45 and the next figure she called was 65, yet she found herself speaking up again shortly thereafter to offer 80 just to keep up. Hermione had caught Harry's eye a couple times since coming on stage and his lingered on her at her third bid, but it was when other voices shouted higher numbers and her heart was jumping in her chest as she yelled "100!" that he stared at her.

Harry was shocked. She had offered 100 galleons for him - 100. She was willing to spend 100 galleons of her own money to save him. _One hundred_ , of her _own_ money! That was no amount to scoff at! As it were, it was a figure that was already surpassed by another woman calling out 110 yet Harry did not register that. He continued to peer at Hermione but also failed to register when her face fell in defeat. The Muggleborn could not offer any more money and she knew it. This was an expensive game which she had quickly been forced out of. Bluffing was not an option and continuing to play definitely was not, but she felt inexplicably crestfallen all the same.

Financially, it made little sense to pay such an exorbitant amount of galleons to spend time with Harry, something she did for free on a constant basis! She was not even supposed to think about going over her budget of 50 galleons but she had offered double, and meant it. What had happened? Hermione felt blindsided by the bidding intensity for the dark haired wizard and her own behavior, and she had to glumly sit back and watch while other witches continued the escalation.

The feeding frenzy came to a halt when a blonde witch offered 200 galleons. Harry's head whipped to her as did others, and his eyes widened at the sight of her. No one else countered her bid but the sour and upset faces of the numerous, other hopefuls were plentiful when she was announced the victor. He left the stage in something of a daze and was immediately greeted by Ron and Seamus (whom had been volunteer number three).

"It's a surprise to no one that you went for that much-" commenced Seamus.

"But to _Daphne Greengrass_?," Ron continued in a bewildered tone, "What the shit?!"

"I have no ruddy clue." Harry replied, appearing stupefied.

He had much to think about while the auction entered its last stage. Daphne Greengrass. She had been screened along with everyone else so she was assumed to be okay, something further supported by the fact that she had been one of the Slytherins to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts. However, Harry had not spoken to her in years, since Hogwarts, and even then it had only been sentences that he could count on one hand! Why in the world would she pay 200 galleons for a date with him? What was her motive?

And then there was Hermione. Harry wanted to groan. What had he been thinking? He should have given the brunette witch a sizable allowance of _his_ money to bid. A few hundred galleons would have been appropriate; she would have won indisputably. It was a major oversight on his part and now he was destined to spend the succeeding evening with a former schoolmate he knew next to nothing about.

When the auction finished, the wizards and their respective bidders had a couple minutes to officially meet and schedule their dates. Besides the other volunteers and Lavender, Daphne was the first person Harry spoke to following the auction.

"Hello," he greeted as he stood in front of the former Slytherin.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," she answered, "I'm-"

"I know who you are."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the formal address of his name, if she was being serious or facetious, so he scrutinized her a bit more as he figured what to say next. She was fetching, that could not be argued, but he surmised that reading her was not going to be an easy feat; for instance, he did not know what the expression on her face meant. She looked secretly amused, perhaps? Maybe?

"Saying congratulations to you doesn't seem to fit." Harry mentioned.

"No, it doesn't." Daphne agreed, her mouth ticking upward by a small fraction.

"S'pose I really don't know what to say, then."

"Well, we're supposed to use this time to set our date for tomorrow."

"Right, right. Yes," He cleared his throat, "Is half past six good?"

"It is. Where should we meet?" she prompted.

"Mmm… the Leaky? We'll go from there, if that's okay."

"All right. Since you get to choose the activity, may I ask _where_ we'll be going? Or do you need it to be a surprise so you have time to think of it?"

She was insinuating he was unprepared and had nothing planned for their date, and the covert jab reminded him of her House so much he wanted to laugh. What was more, he could actually tell that she was being facetious this time.

"Surprises can be fun," Harry stated, arms crossed. He was feeling somewhat entertained himself, "I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Greengrass." She gave him an obvious smirk and eyebrow raise before taking her leave.

Hermione approached Harry right after Daphne and most of his mood shifted. She looked disappointed and apologetic and he instinctively wanted to hug her, but something within him kept him from pulling her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I just couldn't keep up," she said in a downtrodden tone. He stepped closer and grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

"You don't have to apologize, Hermione. It's okay; I understand. Thank you for trying," he assured.

"I should've expected that'd you go for such a high amount but it was still alarming."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to spend 200 galleons anyway. Merlin - two hundred galleons..."

"And to Daphne Greengrass!" the witch exclaimed, peering at him with a furrowed brow.

"I know. I don't have the slightest idea why _she_ bid on me for so much." Harry noted with a shake of the head.

"Where are you going to take her? I can follow if you'd like, change my appearance."

"Just to dinner. And I can't ask more of you. You don't have to give up your Saturday evening."

"You _didn't_ ask- I offered. Both times."

The young man smiled fondly at her and, interestingly, she thought she felt her heart swell.

"I'll be okay. But I _will_ ask her why me, why now when we were at Hogwarts together for six years," he explained, "It's probably likely that she wants to meet for professional or political reasons." Hermione eyed him before sighing. If that were true, why didn't the blonde reach out to Harry in all the time before now? Why did she pay such a significant price for him at a public fundraising event?

"And you'll tell me what she says?" she questioned.

"Of course!"

"You'll tell me everything about the date?"

"Of course." Harry affirmed.

"Fine." Hermione uttered in a begrudging tone, earning another smile from her best friend. He squeezed her hand a second time as Ron came marching toward them, the large grin on his lips telling of how pleased he was with the woman with whom he was going out the next night, telling his best friends that they were about to hear all about his plans.

* * *

Hermione was perturbed the majority of Saturday. Quite perturbed. She got through everything she needed and wanted to do without trouble but there was an unmistakable edge. It was the worst during the evening and she knew fully well why this was so: Harry was on his date with Daphne Greengrass and Hermione was _clamoring_ inside.

What did the other witch truly want? Was Harry enduring something terrible, or dull? What were they talking about? Could he be enjoying himself? Hermione knew she would get answers from the dark haired wizard because he'd promised but she did not know when she would get them. The Muggleborn fleetingly thought of contacting him that night around 9:30PM or 10PM before scolding herself for being too desperate. Not only was that relatively late and she didn't want to impose on him, but Harry had guaranteed he would tell her about the date so she would merely have to wait for him.

 _You can wait until tomorrow to hear about it. It won't kill you_ , she advised herself.

However, Hermione did not speak to Harry on Sunday and it only fueled her anxious agitation. It was not until Monday when they were at the Ministry together that they had the opportunity to catch up over lunch. They made a quick stop into Muggle London for food and then took it back to the brunette's office to eat. She tried to keep her impatience in check while they started on their meals, while she gazed at the top of Harry's messy head as he bent to take a bite. She had gone the entire weekend without talking to him and that fact seemed laughable, particularly because she had been starving for information from him. And he knew that!

"So," commenced Hermione, no longer willing to stay silent, "How was Saturday evening?" He nodded in understanding as he chewed what was in his mouth before responding.

"Sorry I didn't call on you yesterday. It was my day with Teddy and-" he began to explain.

"That's all right." A part of her wanted to snort in disbelief at the nonchalance. As if she had not spent the previous day gnawing at her nails in a figurative sense.

"Well, Saturday evening was… refreshing."

Harry had taken a long pause before saying the last word and Hermione's eyes widened when it hit her ears.

" _Refreshing_?" she repeated.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a surprised laugh, as if he was still processing it, too, "It was. It really was, Hermione."

"Oh! I… erm! So, s-so what… what happened?"

"We only went to dinner, like I mentioned, and I initially thought it wouldn't last beyond an hour, but we stayed at the restaurant for two and a half bloody hours!"

"Doing what?" Hermione stupidly asked.

"Talking. About everything. Anything! It was rather awkward at first, yes, but it turns out she's really easy to talk to. And she's snarky! I mean, that isn't so shocking, but it made it more fun to talk to her. We have the same sense of humor," reported Harry. The young woman felt like something heavy had just settled in her stomach as she peered at him.

"What'd she… what'd she say about bidding on you?"

"Ah. Yeah. Er, she told me that she actually had something of a crush on me during fifth and sixth year, but obviously couldn't act on it in any way due to who I was and how the climate had really started to change because of the war. And, truthfully, I wouldn't have given her a second thought then. Wouldn't have believed her. I would've thought it was some scheme thought up by the Slytherins to get at me."

The heaviness intensified for Hermione. Harry's cheeks had also turned red with the revelation and that did absolutely nothing to help matters.

"She fancied you," she remarked, struggling to keep her voice from sounding unpleasant.

"Unexpected, I know," he observed, shrugging in modesty. She bit her tongue to stop from saying that splurging 200 galleons on someone you had never truly spoken to was definitely one way to show it.

"Quite."

"Anyway, she works in the potion industry - we spoke about that for some time. And we talked about the foundation. She said she respects the work we do and it was a big reason why she participated in the auction."

"Yes, that and she fancied you during school." Hermione retorted. Hmm. She had been unable to stop _that_ slip of the tongue.

Harry's expression warred between embarrassment and amusement, and he cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Er, she also told me what it was like for Slytherins who were non-Voldemort supporters, told me about her family, and we talked about Quidditch," he shared.

"Don't tell me - she loves it." Every woman Harry dated loved Quidditch.

"Not particularly. She appreciates the idea of it but thinks it's barbaric in play."

"I see," Hermione noted. Well she could agree with the other woman about the game's vicious nature.

"She's smart. She reminded me of you at times. I think you two might get on," the wizard commented. They might get on? If _what_? Baffled, she simply upheld a smile because she did not know how to respond to this statement.

"I-It sounds like it _was_ a refreshing evening, then!" Hermione claimed moments later.

"Yeah. It didn't go how I thought it would and I'm glad. It was better."

The heaviness in her abdomen stirred, reminding her of its presence.

"Then I'm happy you had a good time. I was worried about that," the witch promptly said. Harry flashed her a quick grin.

"Me too," he attested, "And I think we both had a good time because she gave me permission to owl her."

"She did?"

The question sounded very squeaky to her ears and she knew she was staring but she could not help it. The shocks kept piling on!

"Uh huh. When we'd finished eating and were outside the restaurant. She said that if I wanted to continue any of our conversations on another day, I could send her an owl. Said that she'd… she'd look forward to it."

It was quiet. Harry's bashfulness got to him and he busied himself with his food, looking away, but Hermione continued to gaze at her best friend. The heaviness felt like it had spread over her entire body. She wanted to know if he would take the blonde up on her offer and contact her. She wanted to know badly but she was too frozen to ask.

"Will you?" Hermione inquired at last in a stoic voice. She pushed at her own meal but was not interested in it.

"I dunno. I think I might," he relayed. He kept his eyes on his lunch but wore a tiny smile.

She closed her eyes briefly. That did not mean anything important. That did not mean anything important. He and Daphne could very well start a friendship, which would be perfectly okay! Repeating this in her head, the Muggleborn opened her brown orbs. She had asked Harry to tell her all about the date but now it seemed like a storm for which she had not been prepared. It was a thunderstorm with rain that had interrupted over her sunny, mild day and left her soaked.

Having nothing more worthwhile to say, and urgently needing to change the subject, Hermione pondered:

"Have you talked to Ron yet? Did he tell you how his date went?"

Green eyes rose to meet hers again.

"Not yet. I sent him a Patronus earlier to come over tonight. Have you?" Harry countered.

"No. I was busy myself yesterday," she announced. Yes, busy worrying and wondering about his date.

"Well come over when he does and we can hear all about it."

She gave a tight smile and picked at her food more with admirable concentration. The silence returned but they had switched roles; Hermione was now the one avoiding eye contact while he studied her face and appraised her. He had been curious about something since Friday night but hadn't the opportunity to discuss it before now because they had not spoken since then. This was as perfect a time as any.

"So… you bid 100 galleons on me before you had to stop." Harry slowly pointed out. That got her attention.

"Yes," she said, peering at him in an astute manner.

"You said you were willing to spend 50."

"Again, yes."

"That's quite the difference," he stated in the same, careful tone.

"And that means?..." Hermione prompted.

"Well, it's just, you know, 100 is twice as much as your budget was. You were only going to do 50 but you got up to 100. That seems... I dunno. Important. "

She felt herself flush. Oh dear. What was this about?

"It's, it's clear why I did, Harry. I told you after the auction! Women were shouting out increasingly high numbers and doing it quickly. I had to keep up!" she rationalized.

"Sure, I get that. But even so - why didn't you stop at 50 like you'd planned?" he posed.

 _Why do you want to know? Why are you making something out of this?!_ her brain frantically retorted. The truth was Hermione did not have an answer for him - not one she had thought through, anyway. She had been confused herself on Friday evening when she'd gone well over her allotment for the fundraiser.

"You didn't have to bid that much because it's… it's not like you were serious about trying to win the date with me, yeah?" Harry added when she did not verbalize anything. Oddly enough, he was staring at her attentively and had leaned forward.

She, conversely, could not take the scrutiny or the direction this topic had taken. She felt hot all over under his gaze and _knew_ she was on the verge of blushing profusely. She had to put a stop to it all.

"I-I got caught up. I wanted to, to save _some_ face - as your best friend. I couldn't let strangers show me up." Hermione attested.

The words sounded wrong as they came out of her mouth. Perhaps there was a nugget of truth in them somewhere but they were not honest. Not really. They were fake and she wanted to take them back right away, but it appeared as though Harry had accepted them because his shoulders slumped slightly and he pulled his body back, molding against his chair once more.

"Right," he said on an exhale, peering at his lap, "Makes sense."

If Hermione did not know any better, she would have sworn there was disappointment in Harry's posture and voice, but analyzing his emotional state was far beyond her capacity at the moment when she herself was trying to understand how this whole conversation had led her to feel confused, unsettled, and maybe just the tiniest bit... jealous?


	2. The War is Won

Hermione was an analytical person at heart, so that she meticulously evaluated her conversation with Harry about his date with Daphne, and more importantly her feelings during it, went without saying. Consequently, it took her less than a week of mental examination to come to a clear realization about the entire affair, about herself and about him.

It was Friday morning when Hermione came to understand that she had feelings for Harry - that she had romantic feelings for her best friend.

They'd gotten lost amidst the multitude of feelings she had for him just as his friend. They were so complementary and interchangeable with the platonic feelings that Hermione had not consciously noticed them! She cared about him, had things in common with him, always had his well being and best interest in mind, loved spending time with him, was incredibly comfortable with him, knew him like _no one_ else and, admittedly, thought he was especially good looking (and really - those eyes and that hair? How could she not)! That her feelings had bled beyond their chaste boundary after 13 years was no great mystery.

It was undoubtedly surprising for Hermione to reach this conclusion but not as much as she would have thought. It was not shocking, unbelievable or even upsetting, and by mid afternoon on Friday she'd accepted it. It was obvious now: her willingness to spend 100 galleons in the auction so she could secure the date with him. The newfound part of her that carried the romantic feelings had wanted to revel in the fact that it was labeled and recognized as a date, and see if Harry would recognize it, too.

It seemed… right. Recognizing the full scope of her feelings for him seemed right (and even put a nervous but bright grin on her face whenever she thought of it). By Saturday, Hermione wanted to tell someone the news; it seemed too consequential to contain! She was smitten with Harry! However, the revelation _was_ brand new so she surmised that she would sit with it longer by herself, to feel confident in it, while she decided whom to share with. In the meantime, it would be her private little secret that made her feel giddy and hopeful.

Coincidentally, Harry had big news during that week as well. He revealed that he sent Daphne an owl after work on Wednesday that claimed he had many lingering thoughts about one of their date conversations, and he would not be able to sleep properly if he could not share them with her, should she be willing to listen. The blonde witch happily accepted his tongue in cheek way of asking if she wanted to meet with him and replied the next evening, claiming that she would hate for him to lose precious sleep and noting that parks and wine were excellent mediums for getting pesky thoughts out of one's head. Daphne added that she knew of a wonderful park and was free Tuesday if Harry was, _and_ if he could find a wonderful bottle of wine to join them.

Hermione discovered all of this on Saturday when she, Harry and Ron met at a pub for drinks. The dark haired wizard delivered the news in an enlivened tone and Ron was as pleased as punch with the development. He remarked that Harry was overdue to have a beautiful witch in his life again and joked that they could double date, as he was also continuing communication with the Cape Verdean woman who had bid on him. Hermione, on the other hand, was not excited for their mutual best friend like the red head was. She felt like she'd been punched in the gut, truthfully. It was the day after her exciting epiphany and now it felt like it had been trampled by a giant. The excitement had been taken from her.

When the wizards turned expectantly to her for her reaction, she froze. What was she to say at this moment? She was struggling against a jarring situation, and emotions, she had not anticipated. _Be a supportive best friend. Be a supportive best friend!_ the brunette instructed herself. You _encouraged him to be in the auction and_ this _is the outcome! You can't sulk now! Did you not consider that he could have a good time with his date and hit it off?_

No. Hermione honestly had not considered that. Harry had been so adverse to participating in the event that the possibility of him enjoying himself had not crossed her mind, and now that it was the reality she was not prepared for it. However, she reminded herself that someone who did _not_ have feelings for their friend would not be upset if this friend had a successful date, and for all Ron and Harry knew she was that someone. As such, Hermione fixed her face, tried on a supportive smile, and lied that she was glad Daphne was worth a second date. She wore this supportive mask for the rest of the outing, although she did get caught in her head and speak a little less, but she ripped the mask off the second she got home. She fell onto her bed and buried her face in the pillows, telling herself it was much too early to cry over the matter.

Hermione avoided Harry as much as would go unnoticed in the days that followed. She did not trust that she had full control of her emotions so she chose to stay away from him. The pair typically had lunch together on Monday but she had her department's secretary tell him that she was too inundated with work to be able to meet when he showed up to collect her. On Tuesday - the day Harry was supposed to see the woman who didn't blink an eye at spending 200 galleons on him - Hermione had an interesting encounter with Dean Thomas that helped keep her mind off her best friend's date. They ran into each other on a 15 minute break at the Ministry (since he worked in the Auror Department as a forensic artist) and took tea together. He brought up a topic that he'd mentioned to her before and this time she was more apt to listen. Dean's boyfriend had a friend whom had expressed romantic interest in Hermione months previously; he was one year older than her and a Muggleborn, as well, but she'd not given it much thought at the time.

Now, however, she was lamenting over Harry's new connection to Daphne Greengrass _and_ reminded of the fact that she'd not been romantically involved with anyone since Anthony Goldstein, and that had been 11 months ago. These two facts coupled together made her feel pathetic and daring, so when she agreed to a date with this man Dean was quite pleased, although he was ignorant of the reasons behind it. Her old schoolmate asked if she would be okay with the wizard calling on her the next day and she consented, and the development with her own dating life almost pushed her woe over Harry's from the forefront of her mind. Almost.

The friend of Dean's boyfriend, named Alexander, did in fact find Hermione right as her shift ended on Wednesday. He interrupted her day long worrying over how Harry's date had gone (she'd refused to contact Harry and find out) and they scheduled a date for Saturday evening. She felt rather hopeful for it as they departed ways because he seemed to be smart and she did feel some physical attraction to him, but it was nothing to leave her speechless or bowl her over. Regardless, the brunette thought it would be a nice change of pace from her usual routine and be a splendid distraction from how confusing her feelings for Harry had gotten lately.

Incidentally, Hermione and Harry finally crossed one another's paths on Thursday when he showed up at the Ministry. Her avoidance of him finally grinded to a halt through his machination and she saw no point in trying to keep it going. It had been five days since they'd seen one another and the wizard was quick to point that out as they settled in for lunch.

"It feels like I haven't talked to you in ages! We haven't seen each other since Saturday," he mentioned, peering at her, "I thought we'd have lunch on Monday, like usual, but you -"

"I was busy, yes. I'm sorry I couldn't let you know earlier," she replied in an unconscious, somewhat formal tone, "It _is_ a bit odd to see you today since you work at the foundation on Thursdays."

"I only nipped away for lunch, and I wanted to see you. I would have tried for lunch with you yesterday when I was here but _I_ was under a pile of work then."

"Well we both know that happens. It's all right."

"True. But I'm glad we caught one another today," Harry attested. Hermione felt her heart start to swell at the repeated message of his desire to see her, "Plus, I wanted to tell you about my date with Daphne on Tuesday." She felt the swell immediately pop and deflate but did a spectacular job of keeping it from showing on her face.

"Oh. Yes, you did see her again, didn't you?" the witch posed, adopting the formal voice once more. He gave another nod, beginning to smile.

"She wanted to see the foundation's headquarters so we went and I gave her a tour. Andromeda took to Daphne right away and Lavender was as smug as Malfoy to see her; I think she felt vindicated. She probably thought that the charity event - an event I'd gripped about - helped me with my tragic love life, or some rot like that."

"I can imagine."

Hermione felt desolate at hearing that Andromeda had immediately liked the blonde (a Slytherin connection?) and alarmed, _maybe_ halfway panicked, that Harry'd referenced his love life. Is that where Daphne was being placed? Into his love life? Already? Was it that promising?!

"Afterward, we went to a park for a couple hours to drink wine and talk," added Harry.

"You stopped working for a date?" she questioned after taking a silent, deep breath. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm the boss. I can do these things on occasion."

This was a quip and he was smiling but she did not mirror his amusement. Instead, she uttered:

"I suppose you can."

A stilted silence emerged in which Harry looked at her in mild concern but she wore a placid expression and tended to her food.

"It was great, overall. It was even better than our dinner together," he reported, scratching nervously at his neck.

"That's good." Hermione answered in a tone to match her countenance. Consequently, the wizard stared at her as his concern and confusion grew. Something was not right and it was evident in her reactions.

"Er, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" She peered at him as she said this. Harry's brow turned down as he gazed back before he gave a small shake of his head and tried a different route.

"Well, erm... what are you doing in the next few days?" he pondered.

"Work, of course," Hermione answered, "Oh - and I have a date on Saturday."

" _What_?"

The brunette was thrown by the rapid, cutting tone of his voice and how his stare had become bewildered.

"What what?" she wondered, looking at him in a calculated manner.

"You have a _date_?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. Richard - Dean's boyfriend's - has a friend called Alex. We scheduled it yesterday."

"How'd that come about?"

"Dean told me that Alex had asked about me again and I thought I'd give him a chance." Hermione relayed.

"When is it?" the wizard demanded.

"Saturday."

There was a long pause during which a distinct frown made its home on his face then he was asking:

"Why didn't I know about it?"

"I'm sorry?" she uttered, appearing as baffled as he'd been.

"Why didn't I know about it?" repeated Harry.

"Well, like you said, Harry, we haven't seen in each other in days -"

"That doesn't mean you can't owl or fire call me!"

Hermione's lips pursed at the interruption and she gazed at him, feeling irritated at his odd reaction.

"I didn't know it was _that_ important," she bluntly remarked.

"Your best friend going on a date with a stranger is important. _You_ think _my_ dates are important," he insisted, "You wanted to know all about the time I spent with Daphne so you would think you'd return the favor!"

"I wanted to know about your first date, not the second! You came in here without hardly so much as a hello before you started on how amazing Tuesday was for the two of you. I didn't ask!"

This escaped Hermione's mouth before she had the chance to filter it and she instantly knew it was a blunder. This was apparent from how overly harsh it sounded and from the way Harry's face twisted into a blend of embarrassment, anger, and hurt; her face, by comparison, twisted with regret and a degree of mortification.

"Excuse me for thinking that you'd give a toss about something that happened to me. My mistake," he grumbled.

"No, Harry -" Hermione commenced in a worried voice **.**

"I won't say another word to you about Daphne or burden you with the details of any more of our dates."

"I didn't mean -"

"I'll let you finish your lunch in peace, shall I?" Harry offered, standing up. A flare of panic shot through the Muggleborn at his mention of future dates with Daphne and at his implied departure.

"Will you let me finish a sentence? Let me explain?" she pondered, her desperation making her tone sound more like impatience.

"Why?"

"Don't start to be rude, Harry."

"You started it. Not me," he pointed out. Hermione clenched her fists as anger joined her fear and regret. He was being antagonistic now and, as much as she was confused as to how things had escalated so rapidly between them, she was not going to put up with it.

"Now you're being unreasonable. Please act like an adult," she stated through grit teeth.

"You know, if this is going to turn into you scolding me then it really is best that I leave."

"Fine! Goodbye."

This was something else that slipped from her tongue without warning but she did not care at that precise moment. She was aggravated by his insolence and they glowered at one another for a tick in charged silence.

"Well I hope you have a wicked time on your _date_. Maybe I'll get to hear about it three years from now when you're marrying the bloke!" Harry declared before he stalked out of the room, leaving half of his food untouched.

Hermione blinked back tears for about ten minutes after his swift departure, alternating between staring at the door and his deserted meal. He seemed to have taken her anger with him when he left and all she felt now was crestfallen. _How_ had the conversation soured so quickly?! It'd practically been instantaneous! She'd messed up by blurting out that she hadn't asked to know about his second date, surely, but Harry's reaction seemed disproportionate. He'd taken such grave offense! Hermione felt horrible, which was compounded by the fact that he'd referenced other dates with Daphne. It sounded like he planned to keep seeing her and this was the real source of Hermione's woe as the day wore on. Their fight had been unexpected and awful but so was the idea of Harry developing a romantic relationship with Daphne, the knowledge of which she'd just excluded herself from.

The brunette needed someone to speak to that evening about her distress. Ginny was traveling at the moment due to Quidditch and Ron would not understand the situation (or even get past the fact that Hermione had feelings for their best friend) so she resorted to Hannah. While she got tearful once more, being able to purge her thoughts and emotions to someone who was understanding was helpful. Hannah offered validation, yet did not push Hermione to tell Harry how she felt about him or to think of solutions for how to resolve the conflict that had been drummed up during lunch. Hermione appreciated this as she was not yet in a rational, logical place to problem solve; she simply wanted someone to wade in her emotional waters with her.

By the day of her date, the Muggleborn felt better than she had on Thursday afternoon but she remained upset - it was merely muted. She and Harry had not spoken since their fraught lunch and it continued to weigh on her mind. Accordingly, she knew it would have to be addressed soon if only for the fact that she detested tension with him because it threw her off balance. Hermione was used to prolonged bouts of conflict with Ron but not Harry. Fighting with the dark haired wizard was much more uncommon and pierced her soul in a way that she could not tolerate. She knew, however, that any resolution with him would have to wait until the start of the new week because she needed to pour her energy into her date with Alex.

Most of her positive anticipation for it had been ruined thanks to the unfortunate run-in with Harry but she was still able to enjoy their outing. She enjoyed it more than she expected, in fact. Hermione was rather distracted when it began, resigning herself to the fact that Harry may date Daphne exclusively if they kept on and wondering whether the two had kissed or snogged yet, but she was not preoccupied for most of the evening. She and Alex parted ways after nearly three hours together and the wizard left her with a kiss to the back of her hand and the declaration that he'd be happy to "do this again"; she, in turn, nodded and gave him a warm smile. She reflected on the night as she let herself into her apartment but her gentle musings were brusquely interrupted when she saw a figure - a _person_ \- seated on her couch. Hermione screamed as the man jumped to a standing position, and her wand was already rising to point at his chest two seconds later when he spoke.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed with raised hands. The witch's heart was pounding as she froze and took him in, took in the scene. She always left her living room lamp on when she left home so the fact that it _was_ on had not warned her that something was out of place.

"I-I used the spare key you gave me to get in. I know you ward against Floo and Apparition when you're not home and I wasn't sure when you'd be back," he reported, peering at her. She gazed at him a bit longer but she did not drop her wand until her breathing began its descent back to normal.

"Harry," said Hermione, nostrils flaring, "That was an awful surprise to come home to."

"I know. I see that now," he commented, wincing, "I wasn't thinking. Sorry."

"How long have you been here?"

"For half an hour."

" _Why_ are you here? Why are you in my flat?" she demanded, balling the fist that did not hold her wand. Cold anger was starting to wash over her as his presence fully settled in her mind.

"I wasn't thinking, like I said. I clearly should have done this another way… just waited until you got back. But it felt urgent, like I had to do it then - now. Oh, Merlin," rambled Harry. He raked a hand through his hair and she scrunched her face in confusion.

"I don't -"

"I needed to apologize! For our row, on Thursday? I was an arse! I'm sorry for it, for how I stormed off." There was a pause.

"Oh." Hermione said, feeling all of the tension leave her. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes widened a bit, and she took a deep inhale.

"I've felt stupid for it for two days now. Stupid and guilty. It hasn't felt good and I should've apologized sooner but… I'm an arse," he stated. There was another, brief round of silence.

"I'm sorry too. I've felt awful about it, as well, about what I said that made you upset. It wasn't very sensitive," she claimed. Harry gave a single nod, also appearing to relax.

"We both could have handled it better."

"Yes. And you're not an arse - just hot headed."

She said this with a tiny smirk and the dark haired wizard grinned at her. Hermione then closed the large distance between them, walking into the living room to be next to him. They looked at each other with their fledgling smiles. From their body language, it seemed as though they subconsciously wanted to touch in some form to signify that they'd made up but, in the end, they refrained.

"How… how was your date?" Harry inquired.

"Nice. It was nice," she shared, "Alex is nice."

"Nice enough to see again?"

"Mmm. Perhaps."

The date _had_ been good but something had been missing. They'd had stimulating conversation, which was partially why the night went as long as it did, but Hermione did not feel the spark that usually accompanied her romantic interests. (Though, she reasoned that she could also see it developing as time passed if they moved forward). Harry looked at the carpet and nodded.

"I was out with Daphne tonight," he mumbled. That familiar, hard jolt returned to rankle her heart but she did her best to not succumb this time. She had to accept this. She had to support Harry.

"Oh? Third date?," the brunette pondered. She received another nod, "How'd it go?" His head rose to meet her gaze once more.

"She ended it early."

"Really? What happened?"

"She could tell I wasn't present with her, not really. Not mentally. She called me on it," informed Harry. Surprise hit Hermione with his assertion.

"Why were you distracted? Because of our fight?" she asked.

"A bit, yeah. But it was mostly because I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you were on a date."

They stared at each other. Her surprise had evolved into shock and it showed all over her face, rendering her speechless, whereas he peered at her ardently. Okay… Hermione did not want to jump to conclusions here but why would Harry ruminate over that?

"Going out with her tonight wasn't a good idea. I couldn't get you - your date - off my mind. Not since Thursday when you told me," he professed, "At first it only bothered me but then it grew, and before I could wrap my head around why I realized that I hated it. It bothered me that I didn't know but I _hated_ the thought that you were dating someone. I hated that it wasn't me."

Hermione surpassed shock and was catapulted head first into astonishment as she continued to stare at Harry.

No. There was _no way_ he had just said what he'd said.

His eyes raked over her face in a hungry manner, her silence not appearing to faze him in the slightest.

"Can I take you out? Can I take you on a date?," he implored, taking her hands in his, "It can be as though you _had_ won me at the auction... which I was actually disappointed didn't happen."

The mention of the charity event, the catalyst for all of this, seemed to knock her back into reality.

"W-W-What about Daphne?" Hermione finally gasped out.

The wizard shook his head as his earlier interaction with the blonde played out in his memories. The movie and subsequent dinner… Daphne getting him to tell her what was on his mind during the meal… her inquiring about his feelings for Hermione... her dismissing his spluttering and eventually managing to get him to vocalize that he carried a torch for his best friend… her understanding, her joking that he was missing out because she'd planned to let him feel her up that night… her telling him to keep in contact in case it ever so happened that it did not work out with Hermione… her kissing the side of his mouth before she took her leave.

"I like her, I do. But tonight put things into perspective for me," Harry replied, "I think Daphne is going to be a brilliant new friend."

"I-I'm your friend," she said in an unsteady voice. Hermione did not know the point she was attempting to make with this statement and did not even have time to analyze it because he was speaking.

"I want more. I've known that for months now but tonight was the first time I had to confront it," He brought a hand up and slowly stroked her cheek, "Let me take you on a date, Hermione."

She watched him through sentimental eyes and moved into his touch, her hands still gripping his free one. This was _really_ happening. Her heart was fit to burst once more but this time from fulfillment.

"If we're to do this like the auction then _I_ should take _you_ on a date," she corrected, swallowing back emotion. A fragile smile bloomed on her lips and Harry let loose a dazzling grin, pulling her a little closer.

"Is tomorrow too soon?" he posed. It most likely was, if only to give them time to process this bombshell news and the feelings it brought, but neither of them could be made to care.

"No."

"What time will you be by?"

"Six o'clock?" Hermione offered.

"Perfect," he remarked. He brought her left hand up to his mouth and kissed her palm in a way that was both sweet and electrifying, "I'll see you then."

And if the witch needed _any_ proof to convince her that she was making the right choice, or that Harry's feelings appeared to be as real as hers, it was the knowledge that that one kiss to her palm had galvanized her beyond anything she'd experienced in her three hours with Alex.

* * *

Hermione marveled that she was going on a date with Harry as the hours on Sunday ticked away. She hardly remembered what she did with her time before 6PM, in fact. She simply could not believe that she was going on a date _with Harry_. In a matter of three days, she'd gone from fighting with her best friend to dating him; she'd gone from sorrow, to anger, to disbelief, to happiness. This did not seem like something that happened in real life. On the other hand, she also felt persistently nervous all day about the impending date. It felt like so much was hinging on it! Her recognition of her feelings for him was still quite fresh so it seemed that more disconcerting that he returned them. What if it turned out to be a disaster? This was all so _new_! However, as Hermione sat with this fear, an innate voice inside of her assured her that Harry would still be her best friend no matter what. No matter what happened at the end of this date or any others they may have, whether now or in the far future, he would not leave her side as her dearest friend, even if this romantic path led to ruin. She wholeheartedly believed that.

This truth helped to wipe out the majority of Hermione's worry, so by the time it was 6:03PM and she was knocking on his door, all that remained was nerves over going out with an exceptionally attractive man and not fear that she could lose someone so vital to her. Harry swung the door open upon her arrival and was on the verge of a cheerful greeting before he got the full view of the woman on the other side of the door; when he did, that greeting got lodged in his throat. Hermione was dressed in a fitted, black blouse, a flared, burnt orange skirt and black, knee high stockings, and her big, curly hair had been primped, demanding attention. She looked even better than she had the previous night. She looked… she looked simultaneously adorable and like he could eat her up and greedily lick his fingers once finished.

"Wow," he uttered oh-so-eloquently, staring at her.

"Hello." Hermione said, a blush dusting her cheeks.

"You… wow. You look fantastic."

"Thank you." Her blush intensified.

"That's not to say you don't look good at other -" Harry quickly commenced.

"I know that's not what you're saying, Harry," she noted with a kind smile and quick laugh, "So tell me what will we be doing, Mr. Potter." He gave a quick shake of his head to rid of the discombobulation her appearance had caused then grinned, holding up an old, empty butterbeer bottle. The Muggleborn quirked her own head in a silent inquiry.

"Fancy a trip out of the country?" he asked.

Harry's Portkey took them to Rotterdam, which pleased Hermione to no end. She had wanted to visit the city for quite some time and the fact that they were strolling the Muggle streets for their date told her that he remembered the conversation when they'd discussed it weeks prior. She thanked him by planting a kiss on his cheek, which coaxed a victorious smile from him, and he admitted that he used his name to help secure an international Portkey under such short notice. Harry rarely threw his fame around to get what he desired and it was always for the benefit of others when he did, but Hermione was a special case, one for whom he was willing to do practically anything.

Since neither person had been to Rotterdam before (or the Netherlands at all), they had plenty to see and explore during their time in the city. Their hands found each other early on with very little conscious thought and remained intertwined for most of the date, really only separating while they ate dinner. The witch and wizard discussed what they typically do on first dates as they ate and had a few laughs over memorably bad dates. While they were on their second glasses of wine, the auction cropped up as a topic of conversation.

"I was rather upset that I lost. I knew I wouldn't win but I just felt so... _put out_ when it happened! It surprised me how disturbed I felt," she reported, playing with her glass stem, "Clearly, it was my first sign."

"Your first sign?" Harry repeated.

"Yes. That my feelings for you were more than platonic."

He matched her shy smile with an amused one but his was also full of heat, and it made Hermione feel much warmer than the wine they'd been drinking.

The pair resumed their explorations of Rotterdam for an hour after dinner and chose to return to England at 10PM, which was nice in that it was only 9PM when they arrived home. Hermione accompanied him back to his apartment and he quickly asked if she wanted to come in for a nightcap, as he was not yet willing to part ways with her.

"We drank an entire bottle of wine at dinner," she pointed out, chuckling.

"A cuppa, then." Harry suggested. Since she was also unwilling to end the night just yet, she smiled then answered:

"I'd love to."

They settled on the sofa with their tea and fell right back into easy conversation. Hermione took off her booties for additional comfort and their bodies were turned toward one another as they chatted, which Harry secretly appreciated because it gave a prime view of her legs and thighs.

"So, what's our mark?" he questioned after 45 minutes.

"Our mark?" she wondered.

"For the date. How'd we do, professor?"

She laughed and it pulled a grin from him.

"Did it feel real, or like you were just spending more time with your best friend?" he continued.

"It _definitely_ felt I was spending more time with my best friend but that's a good thing," Hermione explained, peering at him, "It also felt like I was a school girl when when he smiled at me a certain way, and like there were 500 hundred butterflies in my stomach when he put his hand on my waist."

Harry gazed at her with the same, heated intensity he'd displayed at other, various points while in Rotterdam, but it was its most concentrated and potent that it'd been all night.

"Or when he looks at me like that," she breathed out, eyes now glued to his, "S-So I'd say our mark is an O."

Their playful interaction had taken a sharp turn into something that had been hinted at but not yet explored, something that held such heady promise.

"Do you remember when we were talking about our first date rules during dinner?" he prompted, maintaining the hypnotic eye contact.

"Of course," came the tremulous answer.

"I forgot to ask one."

"What is it?"

"Do you kiss on first dates?" Harry wondered in a voice that had no business making her insides feel like that.

"I-It depends on the person." Hermione revealed, feeling her heart jump erratically. She could not look away for the life of her!

"What if the person promises to make good on those butterflies you mentioned?"

If the brunette had not been kept in place by his riveting stare, she believed she would have swooned off the couch. She did not _swoon_ for anyone - she never had - but _goodness_! How was she supposed to react to those eyes and that face and that proposition? Especially after newfound feelings and such a splendid evening with him?

"Please."

Hermione halfway whispered the plea, not even fully aware that she'd made it. But Harry heard it without question and was imbued with an unmatched fervor, causing him to surge forward and show her that he was a man of his word.

One hand held her throat while the other hand snaked around her waist, and her hands cupped either side of his neck as their lips connected for the very first time.

Their kisses were slow, initially, but held no hesitancy. They were marked by passion, and both Harry and Hermione gave as good as they got since their eagerness was much the same. The kisses soon evolved into open mouthed territory and they unconsciously pressed themselves closer together, but it was when their tongues were not long to follow and she made a few, soft sounds that were part whimper, part moan that he thought he just about lost his mind.

Groaning, Harry pushed them forward so that Hermione was on her back. In his most guarded musings, he'd occasionally fantasized what his best friend would sound like in situations such as this **,** but hearing it for himself drove him into a miniature frenzy. It was _glorious_. In fact, kissing her was glorious and nothing like he'd imagined; it was far beyond what his mind could have, and _had_ , conceived when considering the scenario. He had believed it would be good, even great due to their emotional connection, but the reality of it was overwhelming. The gratification of it was so striking that his primal brain took over and gave his body the controls, which took up the job with gusto.

Harry held Hermione's right thigh tightly in his grip as the kissing became more insistent. He began making noises to supplement hers and pressed her into the couch without thought. The wizard was not thinking of his actions and simply following his body's lead to blissful feelings, so when he automatically started grinding against her it did not register in his rational brain. It did not register until their mouths finally separated and her lips were stationed next to his ear, gasping into it with their sensual movement. For some reason, this brought Harry back down to Earth. He was able to comprehend how far they had gone as he puffed out heavy breaths and peered down at her. The pleasure he got from this was dousing, was immense, yes, but why was he rutting her like a 15 year old boy overwrought with hormones? Oh dear… that is exactly what he had been doing!

He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers, sighing to himself. Hermione deserved more than that, especially on a first date - _their_ first date. She deserved so much more. And he would be damned if the first time he became intimate with her happened on his sofa as the result of hurried, haphazard snogging.

"Bugger," he muttered. He took a moment then dropped a tender kiss at the base of her throat.

"Harry?" she questioned. Harry pulled back and looked into her eyes, his primal brain stirring when he observed that her pupils were blown.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I had to stop. That was amazing - _you're_ amazing - but I want to give you more."

"More?"

"More than this," he clarified, gazing at their positions. He dropped her leg then sat up, pulling her along with him.

"What do you want to give me?" the witch pondered, sounding rather confused. Her blouse was a little off kilter and her hair was in disarray but she looked so lovely to him.

"More dates. More attention. More than friendship."

Her eyebrows rose at his words and Harry smiled.

"You do?" she inquired.

"Of course. I was hoping this wouldn't be a one time thing," he answered, "Like I mentioned - I've thought of this, of being with you this way, for months."

Months. Harry had seen her in this light for _months_. Hermione had only had two weeks with her romantic feelings and she already felt head over heels! God, this was real… this could be _real_. They could have this. It was enough to make her dizzy and she felt the urge to ground herself somehow.

"And if I want _this_ ," She leaned forward and kissed him lightly, "Just as much as what you listed?"

"Then I will be _more_ than happy to provide all the snogging you can handle," he claimed. He gave her a sinful grin and she giggled. They stared at each other with pensive, blithe expressions for a period as they took everything in, Hermione especially.

"I want all those things, too," she attested in a tranquil voice, grabbing his hand. Harry merely smiled and lifted hers to his mouth, turning it over and placing a kiss that felt like a vow on her palm.

* * *

Six weeks later found Hermione and Harry lounging together on her bed on a Saturday evening. Both were busy with their own tasks - Hermione a book and Harry papers for his foundation - but she was snuggled into his side and he had one arm draped around her shoulder. The two friends had spent the day with Teddy and returned the young boy to Andromeda not two hours earlier. They'd originally planned to go out upon ending their babysitting duties but after an active day with an excitable godson, a mellow night at home sounded more appealing. And besides, they reasoned it could still be considered a date if they stayed in.

The pair's dating status was no longer a secret in the wizarding world but it had been kept under wraps for the first month. They'd wanted privacy and time to explore the new facet of their relationship alone, without interference; what was more, with the dynamics of their friendship, no one was able to tell anything had changed because they reserved the more obvious physical affection for when they were behind closed doors. Perhaps appropriately, Ron was the first person to discover the news and the only person they told intentionally. (They assumed word would spread quickly enough if they did not hide it but they were not going to do anything to promote the development either). He had been silent for nearly an entire minute after hearing the revelation, gawking at his best friends with an open mouth. His stupor had concerned them and started to make them think that he would not respond well, but when he jumped up with a wide grin and laughed, swearing and hugging them both, they were reminded that the only support they needed was Ron's.

It had only taken six days after that for the news to get out to society at large that Harry and Hermione were dating but the subsequent mania of it was, oddly, easy for the pair to block out. Of course, this may have had something to do with the fact that they were wholly preoccupied with one another and had little attention for trivial things like their fame.

"Lavender shared the idea of her next, big fundraising event with me yesterday." Hermione casually reported as her eyes skimmed across the book's page.

"Yeah?," Harry prompted, peering at her. He set down the sheet in his hand, "What is it?" The brunette grinned and stopped reading.

"Another auction."

"Ugh!"

She laughed and glanced at him, only to see that he had rolled his eyes.

"This time witches would be bid on," she added. He shuffled his papers then grumbled:

"Well at least she's fair."

"She said with the success of the men's auction, she'd be foolish to not repeat it with women."

"Hmph. _She_ should participate in it." Harry pointed out.

"You know she gladly would," countered Hermione.

It was silent for a stint while her entertained mood lingered and he picked up another sheet.

"If I volunteered, you would have to bid on me. And I'd expect your pockets to be drowning in Galleons to guarantee that you win," she mentioned in a sly voice. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no. _That_ wouldn't happen because you wouldn't be auctioned," he remarked.

"Is that so?"

"It is. You see, in order to qualify a volunteer can't be in a relationship, and I have no plans for you to be single beyond next week, Ms. Granger!"

Harry tossed his papers aside and ripped the book from her hand with a mischievous grin, and Hermione's tinkling laugh encased them as she rolled to the side to escape the clutches of the man she was absolutely crazy about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone cares, Dean is bisexual in this particular fic. Hence the mention of a boyfriend :)
> 
> What'd you think of the story's second half? Let me know in a review/comment! As always, thanks for reading.


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